


Page-Turner

by theimperialbogmonster (songs_of_the_moon)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, This is patently ridiculous and entirely self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 19:38:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songs_of_the_moon/pseuds/theimperialbogmonster
Summary: “Fell and Company has the largest collection of misprinted bibles in the world,” Giorno says, looping his arm through Mista’s and pulling him to the door.Giorno and Mista visit Aziraphale’s bookshop.





	Page-Turner

They’re in London on a business trip when Giorno sees the bookshop. “Guido,  _ look,” _ he breathes, stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk. 

 

Mista looks. The shop is more or less indistinguishable from every other used bookstore that Mista has ever seen. He can’t even tell if it’s open or not. “Wanna go in?” It’s early afternoon, and their meeting with a local mob boss isn’t until dinner. 

 

“Fell and Company has the largest collection of misprinted bibles in the world,” Giorno says, looping his arm through Mista’s and pulling him to the door. “They’re not for sale, of course, but I’d love the chance to look at them.”

 

Giorno has a sort of  _ fascination  _ with religion. He isn’t religious himself, as far as Mista knows, but he seems to like something about it. The aesthetics, in part, and the role it plays in people’s lives, the way it can be used to manipulate and cajole. He has copies of more religious texts than Mista can name. 

 

The shop, a bit surprisingly, is open. The bell over the door is probably older than Giorno and Mista together, and it doesn’t ring so much as clang. Mista winces. 

 

The inside of the shop is much as the outside had led Mista to expect. It’s crowded with towering bookcases with shelves that have begun to bow in the middle, and there’s a musty, unpleasant smell. 

 

Giorno is overjoyed. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell, of course, but Mista catches the way his eyes light up, the slight curve of his lips, the way his grip on Mista’s arm tightens for just a moment. 

 

The man behind the counter is blond and unhappy. He’s scowling at them, which strikes Mista as incredibly unprofessional. How does he expect to sell any books like that?

 

“Are you Mr. Fell?” Giorno asks. His English is much better than Mista’s. 

 

“What of it?” the proprietor snaps. 

 

“I would like to look at your bible collection.”

 

Fell’s scowl deepens. “They’re not for sale.”

 

“I know. I just want to look at them. They’re fascinating.” Giorno smiles coaxingly. 

 

“Quite so.” Fell nods, once. “So long as you don’t want to buy one. Come along, then. Are you a collector as well?” He seems to have warmed up a bit now that he knows Giorno doesn’t plan to buy anything, which seems rather backwards to Mista. 

 

“No, but I enjoy looking at other’s collections. Some of these bibles have incredible illuminations paired with bizarre oversights in the transcription. It really shows where their attention was.”

 

Fell leads them through the winding maze of bookcases, chatting about his bibles; the lights flicker ominously. 

 

Mista shouts when he sees the snake. It’s long and black, draped across a shelf like some awful decoration. 

 

Fell waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about Crowley, he’s quite harmless.”

 

The snake raises its head and hisses, almost like it’s responding. 

 

Fell says, “Yes, dear,” and pats it.

 

“Named after Aleister Crowley?” Giorno asks. He holds his hand out to the snake, which ignores him. 

 

“Goodness, no,” Fell says, laughing. “Crowley, dear, you’re in the way. I’m trying to show these gentlemen the misprinted bibles.”

 

Mista expects Fell to pick the snake up and move it, but it slithers away on its own. Mista watches it go. A few feet away, it stops and lifts its head, looks back at Mista, and winks. Mista shudders. 

 

“Oh, is this one new?” Giorno runs his finger down the spine of a leather-bound bible. “It’s not on your website.”

 

“It’s new, yes. I purchased it just last week from a collector in Norway. Lutefisk something-or-other.” Fell frowns. “Wait, website?”

 

“It’s the twenty-first century, angel, everyone has a website.”

 

Mista nearly jumps out of his skin. He can’t believe the kind of prick who wears sunglasses indoors got the drop on him. 

 

Fell sighs. “Just so long as I don’t have to do anything with it.”


End file.
